


Damaged, Not Broken

by WaywardGraves



Series: Slightly Used [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: (not between any of the pairings), Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Learning Magic, F/M, Hurt Original Percival Graves, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Original Percival Graves Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Original Percival Graves is Bad at Feelings, Protective Original Percival Graves, Slow Burn, Workaholic Original Percival Graves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-04 10:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10274540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardGraves/pseuds/WaywardGraves
Summary: My take on the classic "Credence lives with Graves and learns magic and they fall in love." I have been, and always will be, bad at summaries.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. So I don't really have a clear direction for this fic yet so the rating and warnings are subject to change. I have a few one shots that I want to work into the story but that's about all I have at the moment. If there's anything you want to see go ahead and leave it in the comments and I'll see if it fits with the plot I'll write it in.
> 
> Edit: Come yell at me on my new tumblr gredence blog waywardgraves

“Absolutely not… “ Graves said, “There’s no way I’m doing this.”

“Graves, please.” Picquery said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she leans further back in her seat, “There’s no reason for this to be difficult.”

“You’re right. Because this conversation is over. I can’t do this right now.” He pushes himself out of the chair on the other side of the President’s desk, as he has done so many times in the past. He attempts to draw himself up to full height but winces as something catches in his side. One hand immediately flies to his still-healing ribs and the other clutches Picquery’s desk for support. She makes her way around the desk to him and reaches a friendly hand out but Graves just shrugs her off. “I’m fine.” He says, his voice gruff betraying his pain.

“Obviously.” She quips but says nothing more. He leans his back against the desk and does his best to right himself. “Graves, I need you to do this.” She says, moving in front of him to look him in the eye.

“But why does the boy have to come with _me_? He’s been doing fine at the Goldstein’s.”

“He’s been as good as can be expected after everything, but I told you. They say they can’t hold him anymore, they nearly lost their apartment when the landlady caught him sneaking up the stairs.”

“Then just obliviate her, or use a notice-me-not, or transfigure him to look like a girl; the No-Maj won’t even notice.” Graves said. The boy was feminine enough that it was surprising she noticed in the first place.

“We cannot go around interfering with No-Maj’s unless it’s the absolutely necessary Graves and you know it. And I don’t want to put any extra pressure on Mr. Barebone given his… condition.” She said.

“You didn’t seem to give a damn about his _condition_ when you tried to execute him in the subway.”

“That was an extreme situation and as unfortunate as it was, the decision had to be made.” Graves gave a derisive snort and walked away from the desk, brushing past her. He doesn’t really know why he’s arguing with her, Seraphina has never been one to give false statements to make herself look better or to make someone feel okay. It’s one reason why the two of them got along so well at Ilvermorny. They were both strong willed, strong wizards, direct, but cold enough that they didn’t make too many friends. They were always neck-and-neck when it came to grades and training and their rivalry was infamous from their first year at school. When they teamed up at MACUSA, with Graves taking the Auror route and Picquery going into politics, together they had become an unstoppable force. Although there was always friendly competition, they never doubted each other’s friendship.

Until recently.

Graves had been locked away in the bedroom of his own house. Graves had been imprisoned for nine months. Graves had been impersonated by the greatest dark wizard of the age. Graves had been… well Graves had been a lot of things. But out of everything that happened to him what hurt the most was that no one had noticed. Seraphina hadn’t noticed. And it hurt. Maybe he wanted her to hurt too, just a little.

“He was destroying the city! He had already killed No-Majs and it was very likely he could’ve killed the whole of MACUSA if we didn’t put a stop to it. I was trying to save our people, I was trying to save _everyone_ , Percival. And you would’ve made the same call if you were there.”

“Yeah well, I wasn’t there was I? No, because someone was wearing my face at the time and nobody realized!” He spins around to face her, seething. The rage that has been building up since his “time off” is threatening to burst. His temper seemed to be on a very short fuze ever since he was rescued by the Goldstein sisters. After the situation with Grindelwald they broke into Graves’ home and with Tina being one of the only competent Aurors and Queenie’s legilimency they were able to find Percival in the trap door that opened the wall of his bedroom where Grindelwald often stored him when he was very angry.

“I’m really sorry Percival.” Picquery said, “We were all under a lot of stress and we thought—”

“I don’t give a damn what you _thought_!”

“He was very convincing, Graves. He knew your patterns, he acted just—” She tried again.

“He sentenced an Auror and a British citizen to death without a trial!” Graves barked. “Did you really think I would do that?”

“Director Graves.” Picquery said with the measured power behind her voice that made her President. “As regretful as I am about the hardships you’ve endured this past year, we need to get back to the current problem of Mr. Barebone’s lodgings. Now will you listen to me?”

His anger deflates a little bit but it continues to simmer just under his skin where it has, apparently, taken up permanent residence. Nevertheless, Graves crosses his arms and gives her a curt nod to continue.

“Mr. Scamander will be back in three months time. He is currently in England looking into Obscurials, he thinks he may have a cure for Mr. Barebone. Once he is done he will come back and take the boy off your hands. If you don’t take him in I will have to put him on lockdown here in the cells so that way the Aurors can watch him.” Picquery said. She kept her voice low and calm, almost like talking to a cornered animal. It irritated Graves.

“The boy’s been put through enough by MACUSA.” He said.

“I agree,” She replied, “So will you take him?”

“Is there nothing else we could try first?” Graves almost begs.

“Well, if you were willing to lessen your wards and link your floo back up, the boy could continue to stay at the Goldsteins and just use your house for transportation.”

“No.” He said, “The wards are non-negotiable.”

“Then he stays with you, I’m sorry Director.” She looks at him and shakes her head. “I don’t know why this is ruffling you so much. I would’ve thought that you might want some company on your sabbatical.”

“Forgive me for not wanting another stranger living in my house.” He said. Picquery fixes him with a look of pity that he immediately despises. Desperate to escape her office and knowing the battle is lost he concedes. “Fine, but for three months, no more.”

“Thank you, Percival. I owe you for this.” She said and tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Graves huffs and stalks to the door. “You owe me for a lot, Madam President.” He said, before slamming it closed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Graves stalked back to his office. His boots echoing loudly down the hallway, everyone gave him a wide berth as he marched passed. No one liked to make eye contact before Grindelwald but this was getting ridiculous. His subordinates actively avoided him now. Grown men and women, trained Aurors who risked their lives on a daily basis, running away from their boss like he was an Ilvermorny professor about to catch them in the halls after curfew. He went into his office and sat down behind his desk and pressed his fingertips to his eyes. It was not his week.

 

It was not his year actually.

 

He’s not sure how long he sat there with his face in his hands but a soft knock resounds on his door.

 

“Fuck.” He groans. He blinks away the dark spots that have formed in his vision, rights his posture, and does his best to look every bit of the intimidating Director everyone expects. He gives a wave of his hand and gathering strength into his voice he calls out, “Come in.”

 

“Sir.” Tina said as she sticks her head through the door.

 

Graves allows himself to sink back into his seat. He motions her inside and she takes a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk.

 

“How are you feeling, Director.”

 

“Tina, please. I’m not the Director right now.”

 

“Maybe. But there’s no way I’m calling Grimsditch Director. He loves treating us like secretaries.” 

 

Graves huffs a laugh, “I know, he’s doing all he can to make me seem like I’m unfit to return to my post. He’s been after my job for years. Thankfully, Seraphina knows it too.”

 

“So you will be back soon, Sir?” Tina says, a hopeful look in her eye.

 

“Well it looks like my vacation time just got a little bit longer since the Barebone boy will be staying with me.” H says.

 

“With you?” Tina says, surprised etched in her features. “Why is Credence staying with you?”

 

“The President asked and as much as I tried not to, she always gets what she wants.” Graves said.

 

“Oh, Mr. Graves I’m so sorry. Look, I’m sure there’s a way we can keep sneaking him in without Mrs. Esposito noticing. Don’t worry about it, I can talk to Madam Picquery and — ”

 

“Tina, it’s fine. The President has asked it of me. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Graves said, but the little quiver in his voice betrayed how unsure he was of the whole situation.  _ Dammit, Graves  _ he thought to himself _ Where’s your control? _ He had never had trouble keeping his mannerisms under control in any situation, it’s how he was able to be the best of the Aurors and later the Director of Magical Security and Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Of course, he knew where it was. It was stolen by Grindelwald along with nine months and his fucking face. 

 

“Okay…” Tina said, a line forming between her brows. She looked just as unsure as Percival felt and for some reason that made him angry.  _ She doesn’t think I can do this either  _ he thinks,  _ she knows I’m useless now, can’t even handle a fucking kid _ .

 

“What is it?” Graves asks, “You don’t think I can manage to teach Mr. Barebone a few first year spells?” He gives her a piercing stare that would cow most people away from further argument; however, Tina wasn’t most people. 

 

“No, Sir. I didn’t mean —”

 

“You know, I was actually quite good at magic at one point. I even used to  _ run _ this department, which takes a little bit of talent. It’s not exactly a position someone can just walk into. Well, maybe it is since Grindelwald didn’t seem to have any trouble doing it.” He spat. He hoped Tina would get the hint and just leave this line of conversation, but her tenacity won out. It’s what Graves admired about her, why he had taken her under his wing in the first place. She was one of the only people, before and after Grindelwald, that he ever considered a friend. Not that he would engage that friendship outside of work, that would be too unprofessional for the  _ great _ Percival Graves, wouldn’t it? Well look where that got him.

 

“Mr. Graves, please. I’m sorry I didn’t know but I barely saw you. We didn’t exactly have the closest of relationships when Grindelwald was here.”

 

Percival took a breath and ran a hand through his hair. He knows it wasn’t Tina’s fault and Grindelwald  _ had _ demoted her to Wand Permits, there was no way she could’ve known.

“You’re right Tina, forgive me.” Once again shock shown on her face. One thing Graves didn’t do was apologize, not unless he was very,  _ very _ wrong about something. 

 

“It’s no trouble. I can’t imagine the stress you must be under.” She said, “May I ask you something though?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I do not doubt your magical capabilities, Sir. That wasn’t what I was implying. I’m simply worried about Credence. He’s been through a lot and you’re not exactly… the warmest of people. He’s been better than he was when Newt first found him but he’s still very fragile.” Tina said.

 

Graves had to concede her point. He had never been warm, he was raised to be a Graves and he always would be. He knows Tina isn’t saying that he would be cruel towards Credence, but that nagging voice in his head continues to make him question that. He holds his tongue though and knows that if Credence Barebone was to be his responsibility, he would have to put forth all his efforts to help the boy, any way that he can.

 

“Fragile how?” He asked.

 

“I don’t know if you ever saw him back when he was with the Second Salemers but he’s always been very timid.” Graves remembers seeing the boy on the street sometimes. They never made contact but he remembers how his shoulders would hunch if someone got too close and how he stared at the ground as if he hoped it would swallow him up.

 

“If you would, Tina. Can you give me a rundown of his mannerisms? I would like to know if I do something that upsets him, I don’t want to trigger the obscurus.”   
  


“Oh, sure.” Tina said, almost surprised at his interest. “It’s rare he makes eye contact, he often shies away from touch, he stutters sometimes but that’s getting better. So if he does any of those things, it’s not you.” 

 

Graves nods his head, “Anything else?”

 

“I think it’s safe to say he has such low self-esteem that he could trip on it. Especially when he can’t do a spell on the first try.” Tina said.

 

“He sounds like an abuse victim.” Graves muses.

“Well… yeah… of course, Sir.” Tina furrows his brow in confusion.

 

“Was he abused?” He asks.

 

“Yeah.” She said like it was obvious. “That’s why I was demoted. His mother was lashing him and I couldn’t take it. I had to stop her. It was in the case file.”

 

It was Graves’ turn to be shocked. “Seraphina didn’t let me look at the case files. She said I could when I got back but she only gave me a run down in the hospital. Mercy Lewis, is he alright? What were the extent of his injuries?” He was angry. This was not something that should’ve been kept from him. If he had been in Tina’s position he thinks he might’ve cursed the bitch too.

 

“Well, I’m not sure how much of it is my place to say. He has scars though, and he doesn’t like it when people comment on them.”

 

Once again Graves buries his head in his hands. If the boy had scars that means the abuse was bad, the cuts had to be deep. Percival had scars too and he knew how hard it was for them to heal and he had magic. He breathes again and looks back at Tina who doesn’t seem to know what to do with a graves who is openly showing his feelings. He gives her a small smile and asks, “Is there anything more?”

 

Tina bites her lip and looks away. She seems on the edge of saying something. After about a minute Graves finally says, “Out with it, Goldstein.”

 

“He’s been asking to see you.” She mutters.

 

“What?”   
  


“He’s wanted to see you since we found him and explained what happened.”

 

“And why hasn’t this been brought to my attention?”   
  


“We were worried. He was already so unstable we were afraid seeing you might set off the obscurus.”

 

“So you think it’s okay to keep this from me? To make decisions for both of us?”

 

“With all due respect Sir, he was hurt by someone wearing your face.” She said and Percival sagged back in his chair. “We just wanted him to have enough control that he wouldn’t wreck the city again when you two finally met.”

 

Graves thinks of his next words very carefully. “I understand where you are coming from Tina and it’s okay, I probably would’ve agreed with you. But next time, tell me if anything like this happens okay?”

 

Tina nods her head, looking a little ashamed, “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

 

“Think nothing of it.” Graves says, waving her apology away. “Now is there anything else you wish to tell me?”

 

“No, Sir. That’s everything. I promise.”

 

“Alright then. I’m going to request his file. I’d like you to write a report on everything magical he has tried, what he can and can’t do and what he’s in the middle on. If you can make that your top priority at the moment and give it to me before I leave for the day I would greatly appreciate it.” He said.

 

“Of course, but the list is pretty short. We only just started on magic a couple weeks ago. We didn’t want to push him too far.”

 

“No matter, just give me what you have. And I expect you to deliver Mr. Barbone to my home at seven tonight after work.”

 

“Okay. Will do.” Tina turns and moves toward the door but before she grasps the knob she turns back. “He doesn’t like being called Mr. Barebone though, Sir. I think it’s because of his mother.”

 

“Very well, what do you call him?”   
  


“Just Credence.”

 

“Well, have Credence at my home at seven then.” He says. She gives him a smile and slips out the door.

 

Percival grabs a quill and some parchment and writes a strongly worded letter to the President demanding Credence’s file. He drops it in his drawer and it vanishes, reappearing on Picqery’s desk. He sits back and waits about twenty minutes for a paper-mache owl to swoop in and drop the file off on his desk. 

 

Graves begins his reading and after finishing and memorizing the file in about an hour he feels like he needs a drink. He knows why Tina went after Mary-Lou and if he’s being honest with himself he might’ve done a lot worse if he saw something like that happening, No-Maj or wizard. For sure he would now, probably resulting in the loss of his job, even jail. Maybe before Grindelwald he would’ve just let it happen. He’d probably blame it on having to uphold Rappaport’s Law and the Statute of Secrecy. Percival’s not sure which version of himself is more frightening.

 

He walks out of his office and quite literally runs into Tina. She loses her balance and collapses on the ground, her papers spilling everywhere. Graves flinches back like he was burned and his hand goes immediately to his side where he usually stores his wand.

 

“Oh, Director Graves I’m so sorry. I was just delivering that file you wanted.” She said as she scrambled to get all her case files back in order.

 

Graves clears his throat uncomfortably, hoping no one noticed the fear he felt, “Don’t worry, Ms. Goldstein.” He said and with a flick of his wrist the papers neatly rearrange themselves back together. Tina grabs the one on Credence’s studies, stands up, and hands it to him. 

 

“Thank you, Ms. Goldstein.” He gives her a curt nod and leaves down the hallway. Once he exits MACUSA his awareness increases tenfold. Eyes scanning every passerby he manages to make it to the apparition point in the alley with no problem.  _ Grindelwald is in chains _ . He thinks to himself.  _ But you know his lackeys are still out there, and there’s so many of them _ . Another part says.  _ Shut up. _ And Graves tries not to think that it’s a bad sign he’s yelling at himself in his head.

 

He apparates to the middle of his family home in upstate New York. He had to sell his brownstone in the city after everything that happened with Grindelwald. He couldn’t even walk into his bedroom without a panic attack starting up. Unfortunately, before he could sell it a mysterious earthquake managed to destroy everything inside. His possessions, the walls, the floors, everything. It was quite strange that the earthquake only affected Grave’s flat too. Very mysterious indeed.

 

Percival makes his way around the house, tidying it up as he goes. The home has turned into a bachelor pad since Graves has been back. His shoes are tripping hazards in random places, most of his ties are in a pile next to the liquor cabinet, several blankets are strewn about the living room where he often falls asleep on the couch or in front of the fireplace. He feels a little embarrassed, his apartment never looked like this. But with his recovery and lack of a house-elf Graves just hasn’t felt the need to  _ care _ about what his home looked like. Until he found out that someone else was going to have to live with him. 

 

After making the place presentable he makes his way upstairs. He has several guest bedrooms and he doesn’t know which to give Credence. He could give him one close to Percival’s room; it’s quite possible the boy has nightmares if he’s been abused and Graves doesn’t want an obscurus raging through his manor. But Graves, knowing how young men tend to be, wonders if the boy may want some privacy in a room further away; it’s doubtful he got any in his last few residences. Graves just shakes his head and cleans up each room, he’ll let Credence decide which one he wants.

 

Just as he’s preparing the last room he feels his wards go off, alerting him to someone at the boundary line of his property. He makes his way downstairs to the window and sees Tina and Credence at the gate. Without dropping his wards he goes out to meet his guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any mistakes are mine. Comments and kudos are my lifesource and give me strength. As always suggestions and recommendations on what you want to see are appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Graves walks down the path that leads to the large, iron gates that encase the boundary lines of his wards. Tina stands straight-backed and with her chin up, she gives Graves a smile and a little wave when he draws near. In contrast, Percival can see the boy hunched behind her, wringing his hands and attempting to make himself look as small as possible. Graves approaches his side of the gate and gives them a nod.

 

“Auror Goldstein. I trust you found your way alright?”

 

“Yes, Sir. We didn’t have any issue.” They remained in silence for a few moments and when Graves didn’t motion to open the gates or drop the wards she cocked her head at him. “May we come in?”

 

“Of course, I just have to verify that you are Tina Goldstein.”

 

“Oh,” she said with a half glance at Credence, “Okay.”

 

“May I have your wand for a minute?” 

 

“Mr. Graves I hardly think this is necess —” She started.

“Trust me. It’s very necessary.”  He said, fixing her with a definite look. Guilt flashed across her face for a second and she pulled out her wand. Graves summoned it through the bars; with practiced ease it flew to his hand. He pulled out his own wand and swallowed the disgust he felt having it in his hand again. He always keeps it on his person in case it’s necessary for defense. His wandless magic is good but it wouldn’t be good enough in a standoff.  _ Even with a wand you weren’t good enough to hold off Grindelwald, _ whispered that part of his mind again. He tried shrugging it off but not before he heard,  _ Weak, _ flit through his mind like a curse.

 

Shaking his head he held his own wand up to Tina’s and mumbled, “Priori Incantatem.” The three of them watched as about twenty mundane spells flew out of the wand in rapid succession. Graves knew what he was looking for and he didn’t care about the amount of times Tina summoned files from her cabinet. Her face did flush scarlet when a  _ Calvario _ charm flew by and Percival just raised an eyebrow at her. He didn’t question her though, not wanting to embarrass her in front of the boy and not exactly wanting to know what his Auror does in her off hours. After the last spell finishes that brings them back to when he last saw her in the office does he break the charm off. 

 

Before handing her wand back he points his own and for good measure mumbles, “Revelio.” After nothing happens he deems it safe to return her wand. After that Graves turns to the boy. “Mr. Barebone, may I see your wand?” Tina just fixes him with a pointed stare and Graves realizes his mistake.  _ Shit, _ he thinks,  _ the one fucking thing he was asked to do and he already fucked it up. _ He’s brought back from his thoughts by Credence’s mumbling.

 

“I’m sorry Credence,” Graves said in what he hoped was a kind voice, “what was that?”

 

“I don’t have a wand yet, Sir.” Credence said quietly, his eyes still fixated on the ground. He had began trembling at the sound of Graves’ voice.

 

“Really?” Graves throws a look to Tina, “I thought you were practicing magic?”

 

Tina jumps in, “He’s been borrowing either Queenie’s wand or my own.” Graves opens his mouth to argue but before he makes a sound she says, “We thought it was best to avoid any  _ complications _ for him to just use what we had.” Her voice had taken on a serious note that Graves doesn’t normally hear from her so he decides to let it be, but mentally reminding himself to try and get Tina alone.

 

“I’m sorry.” Credence whispers. He was shaking severely now, his arms clutched around his body in a desperate way. “I’m sorry I make things complicated.” 

 

“Oh, Credence no. That’s not what I meant.” Tina said. She placed a hand on his shoulder and Graves was surprised to see smoke ebbing off of Credence’s form, curling around Tina’s hand and into the darkening sky. Tina, however, did not seem surprised by this. “I only meant that since you’re unique we didn’t know what would happen. I dare say I’m unqualified for something like this.” She chuckles, but she stares at Graves when she says it. 

 

“Credence…” Graves said but is once again stilled into silence when pure white eyes meet his own for the first time. Graves can feel the power radiating from the lithe figure in front of him and a feeling starts stirring in his gut.  _ This must be the fear they felt when Credence raged across New York, _ he thinks,  _ and you were too busy being locked in your own damned home to help. _ Graves can’t help but thank God that Tina is there.

 

“Shhh… Credence can you breathe for me? Let’s do a five-count okay? Ready? In, two, three, four, five… out, two, three, four, five.” The two of them proceed that way for another set or two until Credence has re-solidified his form. He quickly jerks back and looks at his shoes again.

 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Graves. Thank you Ms. Tina.” Credence says.

 

Graves can’t help but feel that  _ he’s  _ the one unqualified for this. This is what he has people like Tina for. He’s always been cold, calculated. Seraphina knows this intimately yet she still insists on him taking the boy in, he’ll never figure out why.

 

Doing one of the only things he knows how to, he deflects the situation before it gets weird. Well,  _ weirder _ than it already was he guesses. “I dare say that’s proof enough for me. Let’s get inside before it gets too dark” He says, and drops the wards, allowing the gates to open.

 

The three of them trudge inside. “Hold on.” Graves mutters. He turns to Tina, “Will you hold out your hand, please?” She looks at him as though he’s grown a second head but does what he asks. He takes it in his and closes his eyes. He reaches with his magic to the wards and starts mumbling a low incantation, drawing patterns around her hand. When he’s done he lets go. “I added your magic to the wards, they’ll recognize you now so you can apparate on the premise. It’ll be easier than going through all that each time.” He says, “But please remember I’m still your supervisor, so knock before you come in, eh?” He says with a chuckle. Tina nods her head.

 

“Of course, Sir.”

 

“Credence,” Graves says, “I know you don’t apparate yet but I’d like to add you to the wards too if you don’t mind.” Credence’s brows knit together. Graves is sure he’s not used to being asked for his permission. 

 

“Oh, s-sure Sir.” Credence says, briefly glancing up to meet his eyes. Graves can’t help but think the boy looks good with his chin up. “Whatever you want.”

 

Graves turns his palm up, “May I have your hand?” 

 

Credence’s confusion only seems to grow at Graves’ statement. A blush starts to spread across his face and he snaps his head back to the ground. Graves mourns the loss of eye contact for a moment but it’s clear Credence is not used to having to agree to be touched. Over the last few months Graves has learned how uncomfortable an unagreed upon touch can be, even if it’s a friendly one. 

 

Credence places his hand atop Graves and Percival has to bite his tongue to prevent a hiss of anger from escaping. He knows Tina said the boy has scars but he didn’t realize how  _ blatant _ they were. Long ribbons of discoloration wrapped around Credence’s delicate hands. So many, in fact, that Graves almost has a hard time distinguishing what part of his skin is untouched. He looks up at the younger man and is startled to find his eyes staring back. His face is ghostly pale and he looks on the verge of crying, or smoking out again. Graves holds eye contact for a moment longer, hoping to convey not pity but anger at the wretched woman who did this to an innocent soul. Graves then let’s his eyes drift closed and starts tracing patterns over Credence’s hand. If he enjoys the way his feather-light touch makes the other man’s hand twitch a little in his own and prolongs the contact a little longer than necessary, well who’s going to know.

 

Tina clears her throat and Graves steps away. He tries to school his features into something neutral. “Alright, that should be good then.” He says awkwardly.

 

“Do I have to knock too?” Credence asks.

 

“Of course not Credence. This is your home now too.” A look of wonder settles on Credence’s face and Graves turns and starts speaking again to avoid any questions, “Credence if you’ll follow me real quick, let’s get you settled in your room and then I have to talk to Ms. Goldstein about work real quick. Once that’s settled we’ll have dinner.” Graves leads Credence up the stairs. “My room is this first one here at the top. This hallway here has a few as does the wing directly across from here, on the other side of the stairs. You can go around and pick out whichever one you like best. Then we can set your things up.”

 

“I don’t have many things Mr. Graves. Just a few clothes Ms. Queenie made me.”

 

“Well don’t worry about that my boy, we’ll get that —” Graves began, but was startled when Credence flinched like he had been burned. “Credence, what’s wrong?”

 

“N-Nothing.” He said.

 

“Please Credence, tell me.”

 

“It’s j-just…” Credence began. Graves just waited, letting the boy force the words out. “Could, I’m s-sorry, c-could you… not…” 

 

“You don’t want me to call you that?” Graves said. Credence alternated between nodding and shaking his head. Graves’ wasn’t sure what was wrong but didn’t want to pressure Credence. “No worries. I won’t, okay? Listen, Credence. You don’t have to be afraid of telling me things. You just let me know and I won’t question it. Unless, you want to tell me, alright?”

 

Credence gave a nod of his head, “Alright.”

 

“Now I’m going to go finish up with Ms. Goldstein and then I’ll be right back. Go choose your room.” As credence turned to leave Graves thought he saw a small smile slip onto the young man’s face.

 

Graves went back downstairs. Tina had her coat off and was elbow deep in her outside pocket, rummaging around for something. 

 

“Oh for the love of—where is it?” She said.

 

“Have you tried a summoning charm?” Percival interjected as he walked up to her. 

 

She flushed and grabbed her wand. With a muttered  _ Accio _ and an  _ Engorgio _ a small, black suitcase stood on the ground. “Here’re Credence’s things.” She said. “We made him some new clothes, I swear his suit was made for child, we couldn’t keep him in that.” 

 

“I remember it, thank you and your sister for doing that for him.”

 

“Oh, no trouble at all. We would’ve done more but he insisted that he had enough. Something about gluttony and vanity and not wanting us to have to work any harder for him. Poor kid.”

 

“He’s not a kid anymore.” Graves said without thinking.

 

“I guess you’re right.” Tina said, there was a look in her eye Graves couldn’t place but it made him uneasy. So he changed the subject. 

 

“Why doesn’t he have a wand?”

 

“It’s been so hard to get him stable. You saw what happened out at the gate. He’s so much better than he was when Newt first found him but little things can still set him off.”

 

“Ah.” Graves said in understanding. He remembers his visit to get a wand when he was eleven. He first went to Johannes Jonker like most Ilvermorny students and had been horrified when not a single wand in the whole store chose him. He was terrified he wouldn’t be able to go to school, maybe he wasn’t even a wizard. 

 

When he voiced his fears to his mother she simply laughed and said, “Don’t worry, Percy. It simply means you haven’t found your match yet. We will find your wand.” It took a bit of looking but Percival finally found his wand from Thiago Quintana, Ebony and White River Monster spine. The second he touched it he wondered how he had gone eleven years without it in his hand. From that point on, it was the single thing he cared most about, above all the Grave family heirlooms.

 

Until Grindelwald ripped that from him too.

 

He can imagine, then, what that would do to someone like Credence. Someone so terrified of failure.

 

“I understand.” Graves said, “I’ll make sure that he’s more stable before we try anything like that.”

 

“Thank you.” Tina sighed in relief. “Well, I better be off. Can’t leave Queenie to wait too long for dinner. Thank you for trusting me with your wards, Mr. Graves.”

 

“Tina you may as well call me Percival. I think if you’re apparating into my house then we’ve reached that point.” 

 

“Oh, o-okay. Percival.” She gives him a smile.

 

“Not around the office though!” He calls out before she spins into nonexistence.

 

He heaves a sigh and shakes his head. Taking the suitcase he starts ascending the steps to go find Credence for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed my name to match my tumblr (https://waywardgraves.tumblr.com/). Thanks for all the comments and kudos y'all, literally couldn't do this without you. I'm so glad you're enjoying it so far. Same as always, yell at me over there or in the comments if you want to see anything or if you hate something. Whatever floats your boat, really. Also, i'm going to try to update at least every other day, but I don't want to make any promises.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All righty y'all the ball is finally rolling. I have a (general) idea of where we are going and I have a single plot that I've been able to weave. Still, any recs you have for what you want to see I'll take them in the comments. Because I know the end at least I've got a series lined up. (I'm thinking maybe 3 or 4 fics in total). As always comments/kudos sustain me like blood sustains a vampire so keep them coming! Also, come chat with me on tumblr; https://waywardgraves.tumblr.com/
> 
> Edit: If you've read this before I made a small edit where Graves actually makes some food because somehow I lost that. It's just a line, it's not a big deal.

“Credence?” Percival calls once he reaches the top of the stairs. He passes his own room and looks into the bedroom next door but Credence wasn’t there. Graves felt something like a pit in his stomach and he’s not quite sure why. It’s only when he reaches the next room that he realizes it’s disappointment. He was _hoping_ Credence would take the room closest to him. He shakes his head and proceeds down the hallway after failing to find Credence in that room too. He just wanted to be close because he was nervous about having an Obscurial in his house. Being an Auror, it only makes sense that he wants to keep his eyes and ears on the boy. He just wants to keep everyone and everything in his house safe, that’s all it is.

 

After reaching the end of the hallway and finding no sign of Credence does Graves concedes the fact that he must’ve gone to take a room in the other wing. Turning around he starts stomping back down the corridor. “Credence!” He calls, hoping the other man can hear him across the house. He doesn’t get very far though when a loud crash comes from behind one of the doors. Graves quickens his pace to the door directly across from his own and throws it open. He sees Credence pushing himself into a seated position on the ground and the boy picked up what looked like an old towel that was next to him. Graves drops the suitcase by the door and hurries over to him.

 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Graves.” Credence said, turning his head away and wringing the towel in his lap. Like this Graves thinks Credence looks very much like a child. “I w-was just cleaning up and I must’ve lost my balance. I’m sorry.”

 

“There’s nothing to apologize for Credence.” Graves said extending his hand to the young man on the ground. “I was just worried.”

 

Credence stares at the hand, dumbfounded for a moment, and he slowly reaches towards it; as though expecting Graves to pull his hand away or laugh because _of course_ he’s not offering to help Credence up. But when Credence’s hand makes contact with Graves’ larger one the man does not stop Credence, and the boy feels a swoop in his stomach. Maybe it’s a result of Graves pulling a little too hard, underestimating Credence’s weight and the younger man end up toppling flat into Graves’ chest.

 

“Shit. Credence I’m sorry.” Graves said, taking a step back and Credence is surprised to find he misses the warmth of the man pressed against him.

 

“I’m sorry for making you worry, Mr. Graves.” Credence says, in a small voice.

 

“Hey, none of that now. I was just worried you were hurt. You’re not hurt are you?”

 

“No. No, Sir. I’m okay.”

 

“Okay, that’s good. Now can you tell me what happened?”

 

“I was standing on the bed when I heard you call and I slipped. I was trying to clean off the bookshelf. I found the towel in the bathroom and I thought—I’m sorry Mr. Graves I should’ve asked first before I used it! I didn’t think. I’m stupid, I know. I’m sorry.”

 

“Credence, Credence please listen.” Graves said in a firm but not unkind voice. “I don’t care about the towel. I just care that you’re okay. And you are not stupid, alright? I told you, you can pick any room here; what’s mine is yours. I just have to ask… why here?” Graves said. After making sure the boy wasn’t injured he realized the room he was standing in.

 

Credence just shrugged, “I like this room.”

 

“Well, that’s fine. But this isn’t technically one of the bedrooms.”

 

“Oh,” Credence said, “It looks like a bedroom.”

 

“Well it’s the old maid quarters. Back a long time ago my family employed a well stocked staff. This is where the maid would sleep.” Graves said. He didn’t want to upset the boy but he had _several_ decent sized, well furnished bedrooms and this space was just big enough for a small, rickety bed and a nightstand. There was a small closet and bathroom connected to the room and that was it.

 

“I should’ve realized. I’m so dumb, all the other rooms are… bigger. I should’ve known.”

 

Graves just takes a deep breath; the kid’s emotional rollercoaster is making _him_ tired, he doesn't know how the boy gets through his days.

 

 _He doesn’t, he becomes black smoke and destroys cities_ , his oh-so-helpful brain supplies.

 

Graves just waits for the boy to stop rambling. “Credence, it’s fine. There’s no way you could’ve known. You’re perfectly welcome to stay here if that’s what you want. I just wanted you to know you’re allowed to have one of the bigger rooms if you prefer.”

 

“I like this room.” Credence says again.

 

A bemused smile finds its way onto Graves’ face but he just says, “That’s settled then.” And let’s the matter drop. If this room makes Credence happy then he wasn’t going to complain. “Come on, let’s go have dinner.”

 

On the way downstairs Credence says, “Can I ask you something, Mr. Graves?”

 

“Of course, you can always ask me anything.”

 

“Why do you have a maid’s room but no maid?”

 

“Well, back when the house was first built by my ancestor Gondulphus Graves it was common to have a full staff for the housework. However, not long after the house-elf trend caught on. They were much more efficient and loyal til death. It was a good way to prevent secrets from being spilled by nosy workers, and you didn’t have to pay them. Have you met a house-elf yet?” Graves asked, looking back. Credence just shakes his head. “You will eventually. They’re these little creatures with big ears. Hard to explain. Not really important. However, my family being prideful that it was refused to get a house-elf. They said it was because it felt like No-Maj slavery to them. I always thought though that they were more offended at being like No-Majs than enslaving the creatures.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Credence said. He probably only understood about half of what Graves is telling him but Percival had to admit it’s nice to have someone listen to his ramblings.

 

They make their way into the kitchen and Graves gestures for Credence to have a seat at the small table. “I rarely use the dining room, the table is quite large for just one person.” Graves says, “Unfortunately, I haven’t been shopping this week so all I have are some left overs if that’s alright.”

 

“Oh, it’s no problem, Sir.”

 

“You’re not going to be saying that after you’ve had my cooking. Especially coming from the Goldstein household. I hear Queenie is quite a whizz in the kitchen.”

 

“Ms. Queenie is very good. She tried to show me a few spells for around the house but I was never very good at them.”

 

“I’ve never been one for domestic charms either. If you don’t watch out you’ll end up just like me.” Graves said with a chuckle. He comes back from the kitchen with two plates of chicken and mashed potatoes, and begins eating immediately.

 

Credence closes his eyes and says a quiet prayer. When he’s done he starts eating his chicken like it’s about the be stolen from him. Graves watches with curiosity. The boy is so meek in every way, but when he has food in front of him he’s like a wild animal. He’s drawn from his musings when Credence says, “I could never be like you Mr. Graves.”

 

“Count that as a blessing, Credence.” Graves said, half in jest but he can’t help the bitterness seep into his tone.

 

“That’s not true. I’d love to be like you.” Credence blurts, but then tucks his head away, shy. “You’re better than me.”

 

“That’s not true, believe me.”

 

But you are. You’re so… capable, and I’m just a stupid boy.”

 

“Credence, I’m double your age.” Graves says, and he’s not sure why the statement gives him pause. “It only makes sense that I’m more capable.”

 

“Credence, when you’re ready I’d like you to look at me.” Graves says, again the command evident in his tone but not demanding in any way. He allows Credence the time he needs to collect himself. When he finally meets Percival’s eye, Graves gives the young man a soft smile. “Thank you,” he says, “Now I want to ask you something and I’d like you to be honest with me. If you’re uncomfortable and don’t want to answer me, that’s okay. But I want you to tell me that you don’t want to talk about it. Fair deal?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Graves.” He said, a perplexed expression taking over his face.

 

“Why do you keep calling yourself stupid?”

 

That was not the question Credence expected to hear. His bewilderment only grows but Graves doesn’t give him a way out. He just patiently waits for Credence to start talking.

 

“I… I don’t know, Sir?” He says.

 

“Well, I’d like a little more of an answer than that if you can give me one.”

 

“Ma always said it. And it’s true.” Credence said.

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

Credence starts fidgeting with his fork, pushing his mashed potatoes around his plate. “I don’t know much in the way of education.” He begins, “I only know as much t-to read the Bible and to spread Ma’s word. I can’t talk to people very well. I… I don’t realize things when I should.”

 

Graves nods his head when he’s sure Credence is done talking. “Okay. Can I ask you something else? How were you supposed to be educated if that woman didn’t let you?” He said, Credence just frowns into his lap. “It’s no small feat to read the Bible; it’s not an easy read, I know. And I actually think you speak quite well and I enjoy talking to you.” Graves said, and Credence seems to relax a little at the praise.

 

“Also, how are you supposed to realize things if you haven’t been told yet? How were you supposed to know what room was what upstairs? You’re brand new to magic, and even if not it’s a mistake anyone could’ve made.” Credence actually gives a snort at that but then he snaps his head up to look at Graves. Fear evident in his eyes, probably expecting a beating for disagreeing with him, but Percival just smiles and lets out a small huff of his own to let Credence know he wasn’t in trouble

 

“I mean it Credence. Even within the magical community, this is different. I’m descended from one of the oldest families in America.”

 

“I didn’t know that.” Credence said and instantly looks ashamed for interrupting. Graves just lets it go. He’s actually pleased that Credence feels comfortable enough to interrupt him in the first place. He must not be doing such a bad job at this whole thing.

 

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” Graves said, “There’s no reason you should.” But Percival realizes his mistake when Credence starts looking at his potatoes with such a determined intensity that he looks like he’s trying to set them on fire with his mind. Graves clears his throat awkwardly, of course the boy is going to know things about him with the months he spent with Grindelwald. “Well anyway, there’s very few in our society who would know the ins-and-outs of the old families. I doubt there’s a person outside the families that could tell you what everything in this house is. Hell, I’m not even sure I could tell you everything in here.” He laughs.

 

“Why not, Sir?” Credence asks.

 

“Well, it’s been awhile since I was in this house. I haven’t come back since my parents died, about ten years ago now? I never had need of some big, fancy house. No, I needed something more practical when I was working in the city. I didn’t even live here until recently, there was an unfortunate situation with my apartment that led to me needing to move.” Graves says.

 

Credence nods in understanding, “Yeah. This place is certainly different than your apartment was. There are a lot more… things, here.”

 

“I usually tried to just keep the necessities. I loved my family but I thought they could be excessive with the amount they spent on frivolous items. I guess my spartan lifestyle was my rebellious phase, and I guess I never quite grew out of it.” Graves chuckles.

 

“Gluttony is a sin.” Credence says, and Graves is about to let his chuckle turn into a laugh when something stops him.

 

“Credence…” He says and the boy looks up, “How did you know what my apartment looked like?”

 

All the tension that had left him returns in full force. He drops his fork and clasps his hands tight enough together in his lap that they hurt. “I-I…” He begins.

 

Graves tries to keep a level head, “Credence, did Grindelwald take you there?”

 

“I-I’m so sorry Mr. Graves.”

 

“What have I said about that? Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. I’m just trying to figure it out.” Graves said, but he’s panicking inside. Why had Grindelwald brought him home? It must’ve been one of the times Graves was stuffed in the wall, but why didn’t he sense another person? His magic was suppressed but he thought he would’ve noticed someone else in his house at least with his perceptive abilities. “Why did Grindelwald take you to my apartment?” Graves said calmly.

 

“I was outside handing out flyers one night, but it was raining really bad. I wasn’t feeling well and he wanted an update on the child so h-he apparated us to the apartment. He dried me off and gave me one of those vials. The… I think he said it was a pepper potion?”

 

“Pepper-Up Potion?” Graves asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“He asked me about the child and he burned the rest of my flyers. Then, t-then he took me back.”

 

“That’s it?” Credence just stares at his hands. “Credence, is there anything you’re not telling me?”

 

“He… he gave me some alcohol.” Credence replied, still refusing to meet his eyes. Graves let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Of course, No-Majs and their prohibition. Credence probably thinks he committed some mortal sin.

 

“Don’t worry about that, the prohibition doesn’t apply to us wizards. President Picquery would never allow it. It’s fine Credence, even Jesus turned water into wine right?” Graves says and Credence nods his head after a second. “I will actually probably take a glass of brandy in the study tonight before bed if you care to join me.”

 

Credence jerks his head like he’s trying to rid himself of an irksome fly. “Thank you, but I don’t think I want to Mr. Graves.” He says, “I didn’t particularly enjoy it much that night.”

 

“Or the next morning I’m sure for your first time.” Graves laughs but Credence doesn’t join in. If anything he just looks more upset. Graves sighs, he’s never going to figure out this man is he? “How about we call it an early night. I left your suitcase in your room earlier and you’re welcome to take a shower if you want.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Graves.” Credence said, his head still bowed as he stands up from the table.

 

As the boy starts heading for the stairs Graves calls out, “Credence, feel free to use as much hot water as you want. We have magic, I can charm it to stay as warm as you want for as long as you want, alright?”

 

“Thank you, Sir.” Credence says, but the gloomy air still surrounds the boy. Graves hopes he will do what he says.

 

Percival makes his way to his study and pours double what he normally would for a first glass. It’s not near enough to make him drunk but it’s hopefully enough to get him to relax a bit. Just a few hours with the boy he already feels remarkably, emotionally drained. Yet, he can’t deny it’s nice to have someone needing taken care of. It reminds him when he used to have a department of Aurors relying upon him.

 

After about an hour he returns upstairs and he sees Credence going through his suitcase in his room. He just watches him for a moment and it’s nice to see the boy at ease. When Credence turns his back to place a tatter, black Bible on his nightstand Graves knocks on the door and the boy jumps.

 

“I’m sorry Credence I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“Oh, no. It’s okay Mr. Graves. May I hang my clothes in the closet?” Credence asks.

 

“You don’t need my permission. This is your room Credence, do whatever you want.” Graves says. Credence gives him a quick smile, so fast Graves might’ve imagined it; but no, it was real. Graves counts that as a win. “If you need anything don’t worry about disturbing me. I’m directly across from you, just knock on the door okay? Day or night, you got that?” Graves said, that firmness that leaves no room for argument once again in his voice.

 

Credence meets his eyes with a peculiar expression. But he just gives a, “Yes, Sir.” and goes back to arranging his clothes.

 

“Goodnight, Credence.”

 

“Goodnight, Mr. Graves.”


	5. Chapter 5

Graves wakes with a start, bolting straight up in his bed and reaching for his wand. His hand is halfway to the nightstand where he keeps the ebony piece of wood when consciousness catches up with him. He pulls his hand back before he touches the damn thing and flops back onto his pillow. He had been back in his apartment again with Grindelwald, his wrists raw from trying to escape the golden cuffs that hindered his magic.

 

He presses a firm hand into his eyes, as though the pressure could make the images of his captivity disappear. He had had nightmares since his rescue but they haven’t been this bad in over a month. It must be Credence. Having another person in the house after Grindelwald is… difficult to say the least, and the boy is a reminder of the man himself. Graves heaves a sigh, it’s not the kid’s fault he’s in this situation. If anything it’s MACUSA’s fault for not finding Credence, for not getting him to Ilvermorny before he suppressed his magic, for not saving him from the hell he was in. If it’s MACUSA’s fault then by extension it’s Percival’s fault. _Grindelwald did more for Credence than you_ , said the voice in your head and you couldn’t help but think it might be right. He tries to decide whether or not it’s worth attempting to get back to sleep, the early morning sun just starting to poke its head above the horizon; or he could go downstairs and make some coffee… maybe an Irish one after the night he’s had. He’s still debating when he hears a crash from Credence’s room.

 

Springing into action is second nature to the Auror and he snatches his wand without a second though. Flinging open his own door he’s hoping Credence just accidentally knocked something over but when he pushes open his door, wand at the ready, he doesn’t really know what he’s seeing.

 

Credence is thrashing around on the bed violently like trying to escape from some invisible hand. Graves knows _that_ intimately from many of his own sleepless nights. But what stills him is the smoke, thick and black filling the room. These weren’t the soft tendrils radiating from the boy yesterday; no these were harsh, beast-like, with flashes of color like fire within the darkness. They were whipping out from the boy and Graves saw the lamp from the nightstand shattered on the ground. He realizes the obscurus must’ve knocked it over in its frenzy and resulted in him barging into Credence’s room.

 

Percival can’t get close enough to touch the boy, to shake him from his dream, but he heard the boy speaking, “No, no, please.” The words came out as a plea. “Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I’ll be a good boy, I promise, I swear, don’t…” Through the blackness he could see tear tracks staining his face. Very softly, almost too soft to catch, he hears the muttered word “Why?” Graves decides enough is enough. Hoping he can break the boy’s nightmare from within since he can’t physically touch him, he points his wand and says, “Legilimens!” But as he enters Credence’s mind he only gets a quick image of thick, black fog before he’s removed from his head and blasted across the room for good measure.

 

He gives a grunt as he hits the wall and crumples in a heap on the floor. He tries to get to his feet and uses the wall to steady himself, his old injuries protesting but he forges on. He’s Head of Magical Law Enforcement dammit, he should be able to handle this. Hoisting his wand and aiming it at the obscurus, which is rapidly dissolving more and more of Credence. “Expecto Patronum.” He says, but only a small wisp of white emerges from the tip of his wand, nothing like the elegant creature that he’s familiar with. He moves closer and tries to think of a time before Grindelwald, “Expecto Patronum!” He calls yet again, and a semi-decent shield emerges. _It’ll have to do,_ he thinks. He starts advancing on the obscurus which slowly begins receding back into Credence. The boy is still whimpering on the bed but his movements have stilled some. Once Graves can see the last of the blackness disappear he clamors onto the bed to shake Credence awake.

 

“Credence! Credence, wake up.” Graves has his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “Credence, please!”

 

Credence’s eyes snap open and the fear Percival sees there makes something clench uncomfortably around his heart. “No, don’t, please!” Credence says, as he scrambles to get away from Graves. Percival removes his hands and backs up until he’s sitting on his haunches on the bed allowing the boy to back away, as far as the bed allows, and then curl up tight where the mattress meets the wall.

 

“Credence,” Graves says with what he hopes is a reassuring voice. “Credence it’s me. It’s Mr. Graves, Percival Graves, can you hear me?” He see the boy lift his head a fraction and blinks his eyes.

 

“M-Mr. Graves?” He says, his voice hoarse from yelling.

 

“Yeah, it’s me. Do you remember where you are?”

 

“Your… your house. The maid’s room.” Credence says, sitting up and rubbing his face with his palms.

 

“Well, it’s your room Credence, but yeah. You’re safe alright? I won’t hurt you.” Percival tries smiling at him. He hopes his face doesn’t betray just how much the incident shook him.

 

“Mr. Graves… you’re bleeding.” He said. Percival reaches up and smears the back of his hand across his forehead and sure enough it comes away red.

 

Graves just waves it off, “Don’t worry, I’ve had worse.” He tries to joke but Credence just looks saddened at the idea.

 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Graves. I hurt you, and I broke your lamp.” And Percival couldn’t stand just how _miserable_ his guest looks.

 

“Credence it’s honestly okay.” He says, reaching his hand out towards the shattered glass he mutters, “Reparo,” and the lamp reforms good as new.

 

“Would that spell work for this too?” Credence asks, indicating Graves’ injury. Graves smiles and shakes his head.

 

“No, not for this. There are spells for wounds but this is so small it wouldn’t be necessary. Seriously Credence, I’m perfectly fine.” The boy nods his head but still looks upset. “Can I ask you something?” He looks at Graves with trepidation. “That seemed like a pretty rough nightmare. Do you get them often?”

 

Credence only glances away for a second before returning to meet Graves’ eyes, much to the older man’s surprise. However, he’s unsurprised that the boy answers with a nod. “I do but they haven’t been that bad in a while.” Credence says.

 

Graves certainly relates to that, but he won’t add to the boy’s turmoil by admitting it. Instead he asks, “Do the Goldsteins usually wake you up?” Another nod. “Okay good. Do you want to talk to me about it?” To that Credence just bites his lip.

 

“Am I…” The boy begins but trails off. When it doesn’t look like he’s going to continue Graves prompts him.

 

“Are you what, Credence?”

 

“Am I still allowed to say I’m uncomfortable?” He asks, his voice wavering. The poor kid probably thinks he’s going to be punished for saying something like that.

 

“You’re always allowed to say that Credence. I’m actually very impressed you told me. Thank you.” And Graves gives him a genuine smile, wanting the boy to know he’s not in trouble. “I just have one more question and you don’t have to answer if you don’t to.” Credence returns to his silent treatment but keeps eye contact and Graves will count that as another win. “Does this have to do with your mother?”

  
To that Credence looks away, clasping his hands together and hunching his shoulders. Percival counts that as an affirmation of his theory. “Alright Credence, it’s okay.” He moves to touch Credence’s hand but stops shy when he sees them trembling in his lap. “Would you look at me again for a moment?” Graves asks.

 

Credence tentatively glances back up and Graves can’t help but think how, well… _pretty_ the boy looks like this; his bottom lip plump from where he had been biting it, eyeing him through his lashes. Percival shuts that train of thought down immediately. It would not be helpful to either of their recoveries to add any _more_ feelings on top of what was already there. Graves hadn’t had to deal with his own emotions in many years, usually just boxing up things and pushing them far down inside himself and never returning. The last day had already been a toll to his stunted emotional response and he doesn’t want to know what will happen if he starts thinking about _those_ kinds of feelings right now.

 

When Graves recognizes he’s been staring for too long he clears his throat and stands up, feeling a little hot under the collar realizing he and Credence had been sitting on a _bed_ of all things. “How about we both take a shower and and meet in the kitchen for some breakfast, eh?”

 

Credence nods and heads to his bathroom. Graves watches the door close and tries to halt the voice in his head that says, _follow him._ He shakes his head and heads off, once he’s locked inside his own bathroom he casts a quick diagnostic spell on himself to make sure there wasn’t any real damage from the obscurus. He comes back with nothing major, but he does have a small fracture in his rib. They’ve been hurting on and off since Grindelwald so he barely noticed. He casts a quick _Episkey_ and takes his shower. Graves showers like he does everything else in his life, quick and efficient. He doesn’t take time to enjoy the water and when he’s done he dresses in a simple white button up and black pants.

 

Exiting his room he passes by Credence’s and can still hear the water running. He smirks a little as he goes downstairs, seems like enjoying showers is something he and Credence don’t have in common.

 

Before going to the kitchen he makes his way to his study. He grabs a piece of parchment and a quill. Sitting down he pens a letter,

 

_Tina,_

 

_Everything is fine, there’s nothing to worry about but if you have time today would you please stop by my home? Bring your sister along._

 

_-Percival_

  
He sends the note off with the owl MACUSA lent him when he returned and he leaves the study, thinking about what he might be able to pull off for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup guys. Thank you so much for all the positive responses I've gotten to this fic so far, I'm so glad you like it so far. All mistakes are mine so if you see any I can fix them. As always you can send me prompts and recs over at https://waywardgraves.tumblr.com/
> 
> Also, @Callista_Rhian, hope this meets your expectations a little (don't worry I have more nightmare stuff later.)


	6. Chapter 6

Entering the kitchen Percival looks around. Credence still hasn’t come down from his shower yet so Graves gets breakfast going. He snaps his fingers and his shirt sleeves roll up to his elbows, then he starts digging around in the cabinets. His pantry is sparse, due to his old habits of just grabbing something when he’s out and his new habit of not eating much at all. The charmed cold chest is totally empty, one cupboard holds a fruit basket that Graves got when he was in the hospital that looks okay, there are some vegetables in another that don’t seem to have gone bad yet, he has a random assort of condiments in his spice cabinet, and he finds a good bread loaf in the bread box.

 

He really needs to go shopping, if not for himself then for Credence.

 

Graves starts preparing their breakfast; peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwiches. Not the best but it’ll hold them over for now. He takes to making it mostly the No-Maj way, he wasn’t lying when he said household charms weren’t his forte.

 

He spreads the honey and peanut butter on by hand but allows a little wandless magic to help with cutting up the bananas. He’s the Director of Magical Security, he can do slicing spells.

 

Unfortunately, his magic doesn’t get that message because once he diverts his attention after the first one is cut up the second blows up, spewing bits of banana everywhere.

 

“Fuck!” Graves yells, trying to clear banana from his eye which results in him slipping and landing in the goo on the ground. “Son of a bitch!” He says, as he pushes himself to his feet. At that a huff of laughter almost too soft to hear comes from behind him.

 

“Credence…” He says blushing furiously, “How long have you been there?”

 

“Uh…n-not too long Mr. Graves, Sir. I should’ve announced myself I’m—”

 

“Don’t say you’re sorry when you’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Percival says, and with a snap of his fingers the mess if cleaned from the kitchen, and more importantly himself. Credence just nods and looks away. “I told you to meet for breakfast, which I’m sorry to say isn’t much.”

 

“It’s okay, Mr. Graves. I can cut up that other banana if you want?”  


“You don’t need to but if you want something to do I won’t stop you.” He says with a smile. Motioning with his hand he summons a blade from one of the drawers, it’s pristine since it’s never been used. Credence starts cutting and the two of them lapse into a companionable silence.  Soon enough the sandwiches are done and they take their places at the kitchen table.

 

“Oh, almost forgot.” Graves says. He turns and waves at the coffee pot, that is one spell for the kitchen he learned _quite_ fast during his testing at Ilvermorny. “That’s the most important meal of the day, right there.” He says with a chuckle.

 

Credence smiles too and Graves thinks it’s quite a beautiful sight on the boy who is usually so melancholic. After they finish their sandwiches Graves goes and pours them each a cup. “How do you take it?” He asks.

 

“Oh, I don’t know Sir. I-I’ve never tried it.”  
  
With an expression of mock-horror on his face Graves turns around from the kitchen counter and clutches his chest. “My God, what have the Goldsteins been giving you?” He says. To that, Credence gives a real laugh and if Percival thought the boy’s smile was beautiful it was nothing compared to that sound.

 

He just leans against the counter and observes the boy at his table. The tension from this morning is all but nonexistant in the lines of Crednece’s shoulders and he seems to be holding his chin up a tad higher. If it takes making a fool of himself in the mornings to get the boy to relax then he’ll happily do it everyday… _where the fuck did that come from?_ He thinks to himself. He was Percival Graves. His reputation hinged on him being cold, calculating, a bit of an ass. He’s been that way since his father explained to him what it meant to be a Graves, and he never wanted to be seen as anything else. He was _not_ the type to blow up fruit in order to make someone twenty years his junior laugh.

 

Yet, here we are. And Graves can’t find it in himself to regret the change.

 

He takes the coffee over to the table and charms some cream and sugar to float over in between them. “Go ahead and make it however you like.”

 

“How do you usually drink it?”

 

“Black.” Percival says. Credence take a small sip from his glass and wrinkles his nose, Graves laughs, “But it’s not for everyone.You may want to add something.” He says, gesturing to the condiments between them.

 

Credence takes his advice, making the drink almost white with the cream. He certainly enjoys that a lot more. He takes sips tentatively, as though waiting to be hurt for drinking something his Ma would not have approved of.

 

Graves downs his own cup in about three chugs and he moves to make himself another when Credence speaks, “You’re nothing like him you know?” He says, his eyes not meeting the other man’s.

 

Percival freezes where he’s standing next to his chair. It’s as if all the air in the room has been sucked out and he feels lightheaded. All he can manage to say is a soft, “What?”

 

“Mr. Gr-Grindelwald. You’re so different than him. He-He was…” Credence trails off and for once Graves doesn’t press him to continue, he’s not sure if he’d be able to keep his composure if so. He turns and goes back to making his cup. Taking a deep breath he rubs the tears he feels prickling the corners of his eyes in a way he hopes is discrete. Closing his eyes and clutching the counter he steadies himself, taking his emotions and shoving them down.

 

Composing himself he returns to the table, smirking he says, “You should tell that to my staff since none of them seemed to be able to tell the difference.” But even to his own ears his quip sounded less sarcastic and more resigned. It was Credence’s turn to give a shaky smile, unsure what to say. Graves smiles back and it feels like something passes between them, mutual understanding of the pain one man can cause, but he thinks he’s probably imagining it because he’s secretly desperate for it.

 

“I was hoping we could get some training in today if you feel up to it?” Graves says.

 

“Really?”  


“Really. Tina gave me the list of spells you’ve tried so far but I’d like to see where you’re at personally, then we can go from there.”

 

“Oh, okay. When would you like to?”

 

“No time like the present, eh?” Graves says, “You’re going to need this, though.”

 

He pulls out his wand and the boy’s eyes snap to the Ebony immediately.

 

“Mr. Graves—” He begins and makes no moves to take it.

 

“Come now, it’s okay. You can have it.” Graves is actually relieved when a shaking hand reaches forward and takes the wand from him. He feels like he needs to wash his hands everytime he has contact with it. However, much to Percival’s surprise the second Credence makes contact with it he drops it on the table, leaps out of his chair which falls over, and takes several hurried steps back.

 

“Credence…” Graves says. He gets up slowly but the boy is just staring at the wand with a look that exudes pure hate. He’s trembling all over and—unless it’s just the light—his eyes seem to be taking on an unnaturally opaque hue. “Credence, you don’t have to. It’s okay, we can do something else.” Percival reaches forward and stows the wand away. Once it’s out of sight Credence seems to break from the trance he was under and he just collapses to the floor.

 

“Credence!” Graves says hurrying over to the boy. He has his legs crossed and he’s buried his face in his hands. Unlike ten seconds previous he’s deathly still, Graves thinks he could have been a marble sentry stationed in a cemetery. Not wanting to touch him and upset the boy further, Graves comes and sits indian-style in front of him and waits for Credence to make the first move.

 

“Ihflslkiim.” Is what Graves hears from the muffled hands.

 

“What was that?” He says softly.

 

Credence drops his hands and stares at his lap, “It feels like him.”

 

And then it clicks in Percival’s mind. He’s felt it too, he knew there was something wrong the moment he got it back. The wand was no longer _his,_ Grindelwald had won it from him the night he dueled Graves and Percival lost an extension of himself; one of many that the bastard would steal from him along the way. He knew this but he didn’t know how Credence can know this.

 

“Sometimes,” Graves begins, “When wizards duel, the victor can claim the wand of the losing side.” It physically hurt to say it, knowing that he was not the victor. “Grindelwald needed my wand when he impersonated me, to make it as legitimate as possible. By doing so my wand transferred its allegiance to him. So it doesn’t work right for me anymore, it feels…” Percival tries to think of how to explain it.

 

“Wrong.” Credence finishes, voice dripping in venom.

 

Huh. So maybe he doesn’t have to explain it. “Yeah.” He finishes lamely. “Can you tell me… what did you mean it felt like him? How did you know?”

 

Credence nods his head thoughtfully. He looks at Graves now and Percival can see a storm brewing behind them, the boy is trying to keep a tight lock on his emotions. “When I was with him, he just… felt a certain way? Especially, after I saw him more and more I was able to feel him easier. I could tell if he was nearby. It’s a sensation but it’s almost like… like if he was wearing a strong cologne, I could follow it if he was near me.” Graves nods his head.

 

“And you sensed that through the wand?”

 

“Yeah,” Credence said, “and I felt like I was going to throw up.”

 

Percival gives a huff of amusement at that. “That’s truly impressive magic, Credence.” How Grindelwald ever thought this boy was a squib Graves will never know. To not only sense magic, but to sense magical signatures, is a skill even he doesn’t have. Once he’s trained up Credence is going to make a remarkable wizard.

 

Before either of them can say anything Credence’s head snaps in the direction of the door soon followed by Percival’s boundary wards going off. Puzzled Graves gets to his feet and doesn’t think twice about taking the boy’s hand and helping him up. They both make their way cautiously to the door and Graves looks out the window. He laughs and relaxes when he sees the Goldstein sisters on the other side of his gate. He had completely forgotten about the letter he had sent after the events of breakfast.

  
“C’mon, I doubt these two will be happy if we make them wait for too long.” Graves says, and the two of them walk to meet the girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I was late posting this y'all, I ended up getting a new puppy today! So i'm pretty beat (fyi his name is Percival). This was not how I planned the chapter going but this is what came out ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm not totally pleased with the end but it is what it is. All mistakes are mine, still don't have a beta so if you see anything feel free to let me know and I'll fix it. Going off of that if anyone wants to get the story earlier than posted come message me, https://waywardgraves.tumblr.com/


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this isn't a long chapter for how long I've been away, real life got in the way. All mistakes are mine and I'm not happy about this one totally but I wanted to get you guys something.

The two of them started walking out down the long path to meet the girls at the gate. Credence is trailing behind Percival when all of a sudden Graves stops midwalk and the kid bumps into him.

 

“Oh, Mr. Graves I’m so sorry.”

 

“Not to worry, my boy. It was my fault.” Graves says, distracted. Not distracted enough to miss the way Credence flinches from the endearment. _Fuck,_ Graves thinks, _I can’t even do the one thing he actually asked of me_. “Credence I’m sorry.” He says uncomfortable. “I stopped because I was wondering something…”

 

“Wondering what, Sir?” Credence says catching up to stand next to the older man.

 

“I’m wondering… can you sense the Goldstein’s magic? The way you were able to with Grindelwald?”

 

Credence thinks for a moment, cocking his head to the side and furrowing his brow. “Yeah, not as strong as his though, and Ms. Tina’s is stronger than Ms. Queenie’s.”

 

“Probably because you knew her longer. Are you sure that _is_ Queenie?”

“I-I think so… it does feel like her.”

 

“Can you sense mine at all?” Graves asked.

 

“Um… it’s weird. I’m not sure how to describe it.”

 

“It’s okay, just try your best.”

 

“It’s like, the whole property feels like you. Everything feels like you.” He says, blush coloring his cheeks. “So pinpointing where you are is hard because it’s surrounding everything.

 

 _I want to surround you_ , is the first thought that comes unbidden to Graves’ mind. But with that blush coloring the boy’s cheeks who can blame him, right? Instead he says, “It’s more than likely the wards.” He says, a finger coming up to tap his lips thoughtfully. “We should experiment with that sometime.”

 

Realizing what he just said Percival clamps his jaw and sets his pace forward again, hoping Credence didn’t see how flustered he was. With his back turned Graves missed the blush on Credence face flare up and spread; he kept a good distance between them now.

 

Reaching the girls at the gate Percival says, “Tina, would you please come in?” His voice is a bit too formal, slightly too pleasant than Graves speaks to anyone, he’s still in untrusting of anyone outside his wards. But with a pop, Tina reappears beside him and gives Credence a smile. “Very well then,” Graves says, “Ms. Goldstein may I please have your wand?”

 

Queenie hands it over without hesitation, Tina must’ve warned her about it before they came because there’s no way she read it from Graves’ mind. His shields may be weaker since Grindelwald all but shattered them, yet he’s still one of the country’s leading occlumens.

 

After, verifying that Queenie was Queenie, Graves dropped the barrier and allowed her through. He added her signature to the wards as he did with Tina and Credence, the four of them began walking back to the house.

 

“So Credence, have you been settling in okay?” Tina asks.

 

“Oh, yes. Mr. Graves has been very kind.” He mumbles, keeping his head down and trying to stop the blush from returning with full force.

 

“That’s just wonderful, have you practiced any magic yet?”

 

Credence sends a sideways glance at Graves, who mercifully steps in, “My word Tina. The boy has only been here a day. Let him relax.”

 

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry, it’s just important to keep the training going to make sure the obscurus stays under control.”

 

“He’s been fine…” Graves says.

 

He called the Goldsteins here to talk about the nightmare incident but now he’s almost worried to. _They wouldn’t do anything to hurt Credence, of course not…_ But Graves knows Tina would follow the President’s commands. _Tina was one of the only ones to try and help him, she even got demoted for it._ That’s true. _But maybe it’s you… maybe they don’t think you’re good enough for the boy_. Picquery asked him specifically. _Maybe they’ll take Credence away, find a better place for him to live than with a perverted old man_. Credence deserves better… _You’re the one they hate, not him_. Fuck. Just, fucking dammit.

 

“Mr. Graves? P-Percival, are you alright? You’re looking a bit pale…” Tina says, drawing him from his musings.

 

“Hmmm? Oh, I’m fine. Let’s get inside shall we?” Walking into the house they make their way back to the kitchen. “May I offer either of you a cup of coffee?” Graves asks, making himself another cup.

 

“Oh, I’m okay,” Queenie says, “What about you Teen?”

 

“I’ll never say no to coffee.” Tina says. Graves pours a cup and adds a spoonful of sugar the way she likes it.

 

“Thanks.” She says with a small smile. “So what did you need to see me for?”

 

Percival wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want Credence to feel uncomfortable with the conversation. Sometimes he wished Queenie could read his mind, but he wouldn’t dare drop his walls. He wouldn’t risk her seeing everything. The four of them stand in an awkward silence around the kitchen table. Credence grabs his own cup from earlier and washes it in the sink to give him something to do. Queenie opens a few cupboards, the kitchen being her safe zone.

 

“Mr. Graves,” Queenie says, “Do you not own food?”  


“Uhhhhh…” Percival replies lamely. “I have some leftovers?”

 

Queenie tsked her tongue, “Well that won’t do. Mr. Graves, you said we can apparate now, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Come along Credence,” she says, “Let’s go grab some food from my place.” When Graves tries to protest she just waves a hand. “It’s no problem. It will be fun to be able to make lunch for us all! Here Credence, hold my hand.”

 

Credence takes a hold of the offered hand in question and Graves feels annoyed about it for some reason. The two of them take off and he’s finally left alone with Tina. Maybe Queenie is a stronger legilimens than he thought… or maybe he’s just that obvious to read now.

 

Tina follows Graves into the living room. He thinks carefully about how to phrase the _situation_ from this morning. “I had a question. When Credence was living with you did he get… nightmares?”

 

“Oh,” Tina said. “Yeah, often.”

 

“Was there anything particularly weird about them?”

 

“I’m not sure if I follow…”

 

Percival scrunched his nose in annoyance, “Has the boy ever turned into the obscurus when having a nightmare?” He asked, trying to keep his voice clinical.

 

“Oh!” Tina says, her eyes going wide. “Well he used to, but I haven’t seen it in a while.That stopped happening about after two weeks he was with us, I think? I mean, every once in awhile it would happen again with a particularly bad nightmare. But I haven’t seen it for a long time.”

 

Graves takes a deep breath, at least it wasn’t just him. “Okay. So it’s not a totally new occurrence then.”

 

“It was probably just the change. He doesn’t adapt easily. I’m actually surprised at how well he seems today.”

 

Graves takes it as a compliment but doesn’t dare say anything for fear of giving his... _thoughts,_ on Credence away. Instead he says, “What would you do to wake him up?”

 

“I used Rennervate…” Tina said like it was obvious, and it should’ve been.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Why, what did you use?”

 

“I used a Patronus.” _Or whatever is left of my patronus_ , Graves thinks.

 

“You’re always so dramatic.” Tina says. Before Percival could chastise her and remind her he _is_ still her boss; Queenie and Credence reappear.

 

“We bear tidings!” Queenie says cheerfully, indicating the bags she and Credence were carrying. They make their way to the kitchen and Queenie pulls out her wand. With a few elegant flourishes the food starts preparing itself. Queenie turns to Credence, “Hey, doll. Would you mind slicing the carrots for the soup? I could do it with magic but yours always turns out best.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Credence responds with a small smile and sets to work.

 

Queenie turns to Graves and the two of them depart to the living room once more.

 

“So, Tina says you wanted to talk to me too?” She asks once out of earshot of Credence.

 

“Yeah, so this morning—”

 

“The obscurus broke out.” She finishes.

 

“Are my shields that damaged? Mercy Lewis, I—”

 

“Oh! No, honey. I heard it from Tina.” She gives him a smile. “Your walls are as strong as ever.”

 

Grateful for the reassurance, then a little embarrassed he needed the reassurance in the first place, Graves just decides to move on. “Yes, the obscurus. I tried to enter his mind, to calm him…”

 

“Doesn’t work so well on him, huh?” Queenie says with a rueful smile.

 

“You tried it before?”

 

“Of course, when he was first having them I thought I could help. But that boy has some of the strongest occlumency shields I’ve ever seen without even trying.”

 

“He blasted me into the wall.” Graves says.

 

Queenie nods her head, “I hit the coffee table and sprained my wrist when I tried.”

 

“So a natural occlumens… he’s just full of surprises. In another life he might’ve made one hell of an auror.”

 

“There’s always a chance it doesn’t have to be in another life.” She says.

 

While the idea of seeing Credence everyday at work and at home is strangely appealing to Graves, something just doesn’t sit right with him at the thought of the boy becoming an auror. Unwilling to examine his feelings he chalks it up to the fact that the boy has already seen so much horror in his life he doesn’t need the burden that comes with the job.

 

The sound of Tina yelling, “Lunch is ready,” is enough to pull Graves from his reverie. The two of them joined Credence and Tina in the kitchen.

 

Lunch passed with little fanfare and some polite conversation. Once they were finished the girls decided they actually needed to show up to work at _some point_ today.

 

“If Picquery says anything just blame it on me, she loves the excuse to yell at me these days anyway.” Graves says and Tina gives a small chuckle.

 

“There should be enough food left for dinner and lunch tomorrow. But please go buy some groceries?” She says.

 

Percival agrees and Credence gives the girls a shy smile and a wave. Then the two of them disapperate.

 

Credence turns to Graves after they leave, “Sir. What are we going to do today if we aren’t going to practice magic?” He asks. “I could help clean the house or something if you want.”

 

“Credence you needn’t do that.”

 

“I have to make sure I’m useful while I’m here. I need to thank you for your hospitality and kindness and for everything you’ve done for me.”

 

Graves can think of several ways he’d like Credence to be useful and he hates himself—even more than already, which is saying something—for thinking them. He’s honestly surprised at the intrusive thoughts that have run through his mind since the boy has come to live with him. Perhaps, he just feels a kindred spirit in Credence. Another man that Grindelwald used for his own purposes, then broke and discarded when no longer in need of him.

 

“Credence, we have magic for that sort of thing. If you honest-to-God _enjoy_ cleaning? Then I’m not going to stop you. But you don’t need to repay me for anything, I quite like having you in the house actually.” Graves says, not realizing his slip until it’s too late. He’s worried he might scare the boy off with those words but to his surprise and satisfaction, Credence seems to brighten at the validation.

 

“You do?” He asks.

 

“Of course, you bring some life to this old place. As much as I’d never admit it to the president, I was going a little stir-crazy by myself.” Percival chuckles. Credence smiles back and Graves feels his stomach flutter. “How about this? You can go read any of the books in the living room and I’m going to write some letters.”

 

“Okay, Mr. Graves. Who are you writing… if I can ask.” Credence adds on hastily.

 

“You can always ask me anything, Credence.” Percival says, “I’m going to go write a few places to see if we can’t get a few wands that are to our liking.”

  
Graves smiles at the surprised look on the boy’s face and leaves him be to return to his study. Wondering if he should write Jonker or Beauvais first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the wand sorting!
> 
> Comments and Kudos make up the fibers of my being. Thank you for sustaining me.
> 
> Come send me prompts or hate mail! https://waywardgraves.tumblr.com/


	8. Chapter 8

Jonker was first. The man was kind enough to meet them at MACUSA with President Picquery’s permission. Credence woke up to the news and was excited and nervous all through breakfast. 

 

“Credence, it’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.” Percival kept saying, yet Credence is having trouble accepting that.

 

“Are you sure it’s not too soon? Ms. Tina said—”

 

“Please forgive me, but I am technically more advanced in the ways of magic than Tina Goldstein.” Graves says, perhaps a little harsher than he should have.

 

“Of course, sir. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

 

“And you didn’t,” Percival says, “but this is the only way. Neither of us want to touch this one.” He says motioning to the ebony wand at his side. “I need a new one, and it will be much easier for you to become proficient at magic when you have a wand that is actually  _ yours _ .”

 

Credence just nods his head. He’s still not one-hundred percent convinced of the idea, but the thought of him actually owning something that is  _ just _ his. Not a hand-me-down, not charity. But the idea of something of his own, that picked him no less, is thrilling. 

 

After they finish their meal and get ready for the day Graves offers Credence his arm. “Are you ready?” 

 

Swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, he nods once again accepting the proffered arm and the two of them swirl into nonexistence. They reappear at the apparition point in the alley behind MACUSA. Credence lets his hand loiter on Mr. Graves’ arm for as long as he can get away with, and misses the touch when the man sweeps away towards the front of the building. 

 

Walking into MACUSA is a surreal experience. He passes the normal Woolsworth golden entrance and is immediately floored by the sight. The ceilings that seem to extend to the clouds, some sort of clock suspended in midair, and the large, moving portrait of President Picquery that graces the entryway. There are all sorts of creatures he’s never seen before but the most stunning is probable the man he’s come here with.

 

Gone is the Percival Graves that Credence has gotten to know over the short time he’s stayed at Graves Manor. In his place is a figure, remarkably like the man he first fell for. His back is straight and a bit too still, he marches down the hallways like he owns the place (and Credence assumes next to Madame Picquery, he pretty much does), people dodge out of his way when they hear the clack of his spatz on the floor, and his coat billows around him. Although he would never  _ ever _ tell Mr. Graves (and he would deny it until his death) he can at least understand why his co-workers didn’t notice anything off when Grindelwald took his place.

 

He follows the magnificent figure and keeps his eyes down, aware of the employees gawking at the two of them. Walking through the aurors bullpen Creedence can't help but become entranced at the flurry of movements. Paper animals scurry about, sending notes to different departments. Towards the back of the room there seems to be lanes with dummies and targets set up, for dueling practice he guesses. One auror seems to be trying to attempt to jinx on an ordinary looking mailbox, but everytime he does it turns a nasty shade of red and starts spewing profanities and the man quickly cancels the spell. So Credence assumes that’s not what’s supposed to happen. 

 

“Credence!” He hears and us quickly engulfed in the familiar shroud that is Tina Goldstein. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Hello, Tina.” Mr. Graves drawls, turning and coming back to his ward’s side. “Are you on break?”

 

“Oh, no sir.” She says abashed, but the playful look in Graves’ eye tells her that he’s only joking. “What brings you two here today?”

 

“Mr. Jonker is going to help us get Credence set up with a wand.”

 

“Oh.” Tina says with a worried look, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

 

“My wand has not been sufficient for Credence, he needs one of his own.”

 

“Right.” She says, not looking convinced.

 

“Tina I said I wouldn’t do it until he’s ready. But he needs it and I think he can control his obscurus enough that it won’t be a danger.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you Credence.” She says, turning to the boy, “I just don’t want any accidents to happen. Because that’s what they are when that thing manifests itself, they’re accidents and you’re not at fault. But it can still be dangerous.”

 

“Tina, trust me.” Percival says, before he can continue Credence speaks.

 

“Don’t worry Ms. Tina, Mr. Graves will be with me.” He replies in a quiet voice. The statement send a warmth throughout Percival’s body like he just drank a good cup of butterbeer in the winter. 

 

“Come along. We shouldn’t keep Mr. Jonker waiting.” Graves says.

 

He follows Mr. Graves to his office and is greeted by Mr. Jonker at the door and the three men retreat to the more quiet setting.

 

“Come here, boy let’s see what you make of these.” The man says, rolling out a long sheath of fabric that holds at least thirty wands. “Let’s try this one.” He says, pulling out a tan wand with no discernable markings. “All my wands have Wampus hair as the core, this one has wood of oak. Give it a try.”

 

Credence takes it and murmurs a soft lumos. Immediately every light in the room explodes. Credence drops the wand and backs up.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He says shaking. Percival can see soft wisps starting to form, unnoticeable unless you were looking for them and he knows he can’t let the boy lose control.

 

Stepping forward he says, “Credence it’s fine. Don’t worry. You should’ve seen my first try at Mr. Jonker’s wands.”

 

“Not a single one in the store worked for him. Either set something on fire or they wouldn’t even let him touch them.” The man says with a chuckle, “I believe you ended up with a Quintana wand, right?”

 

“Yes I did.” Percival says.

 

“And how’s that one going for you?”

 

“At least it works.” He says, shooting Credence a sideways and the boy knows he shouldn’t mention anything.

 

“Well let’s move on then. Try this.”

 

It goes on for hours until Credence has tried every wand Mr. Jonker brought. None of them worked and quite a few even disintegrated at his touch. Percival tried them after Credence too, pretending he's just mildly curious, not wanting anyone to know that he desires a new wand.

 

Graves bids the man a thank you, paid him for his time, and escorted him from the office. When Percival turned back he found Credence sitting in the chair in the corner with his knees drawn up and his head down. Graves knows how hard it is to not find a wand and he pities the boy. But he doesn’t think that pity is what Credence needs. Everyone who’s ever done him a kindness seemed to pity him and Graves knows he deserves more than that, that he’s stronger than that.

 

“Credence.” He says, placing a hand on his shoulder. The boy inhales sharply and looks up at Percival. The man can see despair and pain and something else in his eyes, but he can't quite place it. He pulls his hand back and mumbles an apology. Mercy Lewis, he’s so bad at this. “Listen, this is nothing to be upset about. I told you how Jonker’s wands never worked for me before and they didn’t work for me again.”

 

“Yeah, but you didn’t destroy them.”

 

“That only happened because of your power. You’re far stronger than you realize and those meager sticks can’t contain the force you hold.” but instead of looking assured Credence just looks upset, dropping his eyes to the ground and worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. Percival squats down in front of him to catch his eyes. “The force I’m talking about is not the obscurus. It’s a latent energy, something old and strong. It’s in your blood like it’s in mine. Finding your own wand won’t be easy, but when you do, it will be the best feeling in the world.”

 

“That’s what it was like for you?” The boy asks quietly.

 

“Yes.” Percival says, and Credence can see the sadness in his eyes. He didn’t realize how bad the loss of his wand’s allegiance had affected the man. The boy stands up and nods, knowing that Graves has no reason to lie.

 

“So what now?” He asks.

 

The next few days pass much in the same. Ms. Beauvais also meets them in Percival’s office but unfortunately, none of her wands work either. After that, Graves sent a message to Wolfe, hoping she had anything for Credence (and himself) but again, none of them worked. By this point both men were actually a bit downtrodden. Graves can understand why it may be difficult for Credence to find a wand, he’s a rarity, an outlier. But, a little selfishly, Graves thinks that by this point  _ some _ wand would’ve chosen him. He wishes there were a way he could just kill Grindelwald and hopefully win his own wand back, but he knows that can never happen. The man is buried deep down in MACUSA’s cells and not even Percival can get down there with the heightened security. He also like  _ not _ being on his own country’s enemy list. It’s a shame Thiago Quintana never passed along his knowledge of how to attract White River Monsters and his wands ceased to be made after he passed away, if not Graves might have been able to find another similar to his own.

 

Because of their continued failure in pursuit of new wands Graves decided that  _ not _ practicing magic was a waste of both their time. Instead of using the hated Ebony wand the two of them started practicing wandless magic. Just beginning, Credence started with early year spells while Percival tried to master more complex ones. It was during one of these lessons, about a week into Credence’s stay, that an owl came swooping into the drawing room.

 

“Okay, easy now.” Percival says. “Feel the magic. Close your eyes.” Credence does and allows Graves’ voice to fill him up, which is not too difficult if he’s being totally honest. “Tell me, what do you feel.”

 

“It feels like there’s a touch under my skin. Fingers running along my arms when my heart beats.”   
  


“Good what else.”

 

“My chest feels light, almost like I can fly but… not like the obscurus. Something more, open I guess?”

 

“Alright.”

 

“My face feels numb, almost like I had too much to drink.”

 

“Good, Credence. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to take that feeling, take the lightness, and the numbness, and the touch and put it all into your hand. Think of forcing it down. Then open your eyes and say the spell.”

 

Credence does and when he opens his eyes and says, “Wingardium Leviosa” the book in front of him lifts about an inch off the table for a few seconds before collapsing back down.

 

“Excellent Credence, excellent!” Graves says, giving the boy a pat on the shoulder. It only took about a hundred times to practice but he’s getting it. Considering he’s never really learned with a wand it’s very impressive. Before he can say anything else a tawny owl comes flying through the nearest open window, dropping a letter off at Percival’s feet. Graves picks it up cautiously and his name in unfamiliar scroll is written across the front. Casting several diagnostic spells to make sure it’s not laced with anything he opens it.

 

_ Dear Mr. Graves, _

 

_ I know we have not truly had the chance to meet in person yet, but Tina told me the predicament you are having finding a wand for Credence and if you would like I believe I may be able to offer some assistance. Mr. Ollivander is a friend of mine and a fabulous wandmaker. He says he will be in American in two days time and will have several wands he believes may suit Credence’s needs. Be wary, I do think the man is too overjoyed at the prospect of fitting an obscurial but he will do his job and do it well. He may be eccentric but he has a way of getting the right wands to the right hands. If you would like to see him you can write me back and I’ll let him know (although if you decline I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up at MACUSA anyway so be warned.) _

 

_ All the Best, _

_ Newt Scamander _

 

Percival reads the letter a few times. He decides that perhaps this might be their best bet, he’s heard of Ollivander’s wands before and he knows they’re of quality. Besides, this is Theseus’ brother and the one Tina spoke so highly of. The man who, out of  _ everyone _ , realized the hate speech Graves was spewing in the subway was wrong and that the Director of Magical Security couldn’t  _ possibly _ be the one saying such things, leading to the unmasking of Grindelwald. He sends an affirmative reply with the tawny owl and it takes off again.

 

“What was that all about?” Credence asks.

 

“We may have another chance at a wand.”

 

Just as Newt says, in two days time Percival and Credence are summoned to MACUSA because a wandmaker is there to see them. After passing all the new identity tests the Congress finally got put in place, Mr. Ollivander is brought to the Director’s office where Graves and Credence wait.

 

“Ah! A Graves.” The man says, striding forward and taking Percival’s hand with no sense of personal space. “And you must be the obscurial,” he says, wringing Credence’s as well. Percival can see the boy stifle a wince, which makes him automatically dislike the man who’s walking around his office like he owns it. “So much power in one room, if those people out there  _ really _ realized what the two of you are capable of; well, they’d probably run screaming wouldn’t they?”

 

“And you know what we are capable of?” Graves says curtly.

 

“Of course.” Ollivander replies, matter-of-fact. He pulls out a small, cylindrical tube from his coat pocket. Opening the top he turns it over and a wand spills out into his hand, “Alright, let’s find you a wand, young sir?”

 

“My name is Credence.” He says, not in a strong voice but he doesn’t waver or hunch. Percival counts that as a win and he feels a sliver of pride at the boy standing up for himself.

 

“Of course, Credence. Here try this.” He says, handing out the want. “Redwood and unicorn hair.” Credence takes it and immediately a viscous, blue liquid starts leaking from it. “Huh, interesting.” He says, “Not that then. How about you sir, would you like to try it?”

 

“I have a wand.” Percival says tersely.

 

“Well I just thought you may want a back up, they always come in handy.” Ollivander says, not perturbed by the death glare Graves is giving him. Percival sees something in the man’s eyes and he thinks that Ollivander may realize more than he’s saying. He nods and takes it, but it simply starts melting when he comes in contact. “Nope. Not you either then.” The man picks his cylinder back up and tips out another wand. “Round two then.”

 

They test wands for hours, Ollivander’s portable shop seems never ending. “Alright, alright. I think this may work.” He says, handing out another. “Blackthorn and phoenix feather.” Credence takes it and nothing seems to happen with it, he murmurs a soft lumos and the tip lights. 

 

“It works!” He says with a gleeful expression on his face.

 

“Hmmm, yes. But it’s not for you.” Mr. Ollivander says, handing the wand to Percival.

 

“Now wait a minute,” Graves says, “It works what’s wrong with it?”

 

“Credence, did you feel anything?”

 

“Well, no… but it worked!” 

 

“You can use it, doesn’t mean it’s yours.” He says, thrusting the wand into Percival’s hand so he can retrieve his cylinder. All of a sudden a howling sound rushes through the room along with a heavy gust of wind. A bright, white mist almost like a patronus starts to come from the wand. As soon as it started, it vanished.

 

“What kind of wand did you say this was?” Graves asks softly.

 

“Blackthorn and phoenix feather… how curious.” He says glancing between the two men. “Well one down one to go then.”

 

Fortunately, it only takes three more wands for Credence to find his own. “Hawthorn and phoenix feather.” The man says as he gives Credence the wand. When the boy touches it the lights start flickering. A black fog, like the obscurus, shoots from the wand, wrapping its tendrils around Credence and the boy actually hovers a few inches off the floor. His eyes shine white and his hair halos around his head like he’s in water. Percival watches him in awe and in that moment he can’t think of a more beautiful sight in the world. When the lights reach peak intensity and explode, the blackness lowers him back to the floor and vanishes.

 

Credence stares at the two of them with wide eyes, panting like he’s almost out of breath. A smile makes its way onto Ollivander’s face while Graves still looks at the boy like he’s never seen him before.

 

“Very well then, I believe my work here is done.” He says, shoving his tube back in his pocket.

 

“Right,” Graves says, clearing his throat, “How many Dragots will they be?”

 

“Oh I don’t like bothering with the converting nonsense. It was my treat to get to see such a display, that’s for sure. I do believe that is payment enough. You two have a wonderful day, I’ll see myself out.”

 

After the man leaves Percival turns to Credence. “Well, I do believe we owe Newt Scamander a drink.” He says, let’s get home.

 

They apparate back without any trouble, both running with excitement and tension at trying out their new wands. Once inside they practice many basic spells, Graves growing more and more complex with his confidence, and Credence picking up the early spells with practiced ease.

 

“I see what you mean,” Credence says, “with my own wand. I can just  _ feel _ it better.”

 

“Exactly, that’s how it should be.” Graves replies, sending a transfiguration spell that causes their armchair to turn into a scarecrow for a bit then revert. “Now the question is, what to do with this?” Graves says, pulling out the ebony wand.

 

“We could destroy it?” Credence suggests. And as much as Percival wants to, he can’t bring himself to do it. The wand has been with him through so much. He just  _ can’t _ .

 

“I think it’s best if I just leave it somewhere for safekeeping for now.” He says, “Extra wands are good to have in case of emergency, I hope we never have to touch it again. But it’s here if we need it.” Graves conjures up a simple, wooden box where he lays his wand to rest. He places it on a shelf in the drawing room. “Come on.” He says, “We’ve had a long day, let’s get to bed.”

  
Both men retreat to their own rooms after saying goodnight. But neither fall asleep fast, both testing their new wands as much as they can quietly so the other won’t hear. Credence lays it next to him on his bedside table like Percival used to, and Percival keeps his under his pillow where his hand can grasp it at a moment's notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Pottermore...
> 
> "Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Given this condition, the blackthorn wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish."
> 
> "The wandmaker Gregorovitch wrote that hawthorn ‘makes a strange, contradictory wand, as full of paradoxes as the tree that gave it birth, whose leaves and blossoms heal, and yet whose cut branches smell of death.’ While I disagree with many of Gregorovitch’s conclusions, we concur about hawthorn wands, which are complex and intriguing in their natures, just like the owners who best suit them. Hawthorn wands may be particularly suited to healing magic, but they are also adept at curses, and I have generally observed that the hawthorn wand seems most at home with a conflicted nature, or with a witch or wizard passing through a period of turmoil. Hawthorn is not easy to master, however, and I would only ever consider placing a hawthorn wand in the hands of a witch or wizard of proven talent, or the consequences might be dangerous. Hawthorn wands have a notable peculiarity: their spells can, when badly handled, backfire."
> 
> "This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike. Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won."
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> Thanks to theescapist99, writingramblr, and toffy to help me decide between wands when I was drunk.
> 
> Fun fact, Credence has the same wand as I do. But I chose it because I think it really suits his character best.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm in constant need of validation so comments and kudos get me through the week.


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